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De'lahn Masakaru, Monk of the Silver Flame
“Be brave, my friend… you have all the tools you need to survive… now go! You must carry on the legacy!!” were the last words I heard from him, my eyes swelling up with tears of Pure Regret and Shame, watching the fire take the outskirts of town, knowing what was about to head towards my home, my temple, my ground zero…and knowing that I was about to turn away… knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing to stop him from going to defend what I wasn’t strong enough to protect. Knowing…that from that point on, I would NEVER feel a pain as overwhelming or unbearable…as throatwrenching and incapacitating as being dragged away as the next few events unfolded… the sky pure red and the hills brighter than ever. The sparks of swords clashing and flaming arrowheads grew dimmer and dimmer the farther I was dragged away. Unable to blink…unable to reach out towards the village… unable to scream and most excruciating of all…unable to help… I am De’Lahn Masakaru, Monk of the silver flame, and My tale is one of two treasures the Vermillion wave and the Alizarin Wall. But for now, this is just My pain on this parchment… I arrived at the capital. Broken, beaten, shattered and no more of a man than the bugs that crawled around the markets product, waiting for a chance to see another day to scavenge another potato scrap or fresh apple harvest. Bugs…they had no indifference to what they had landed on and devoured, as long as it was there. For some reason, I felt less than that. I had nothing there. The simplicity of life had become all but lost, as my will to live, my basic human instinct to live, all but dissipated as I sat in the market, not knowing what would happen to me and honestly not caring. Days went by, as the markets opened and closed, friends and lovers meeting up in the market place buying food and handcrafted jewels for another. The livelihood and tempo of the market began to make my brain go ballistic…but I still could not move. I could not muster the strength to get up from the spot I had been dragged to and left at. I still could not muster the energy to fight or the will to live…until that moment. A man, dressed in what seemed like a man of the cloths apparel, walked over to me, knelt down and said “son…I have walked past you every day and everyday you have looked the exact same. You have not moved. You have not eaten. You have not bathed nor spoken to anyone.” I continued to sit there motionless, barely able to hear his words past a mumble, my ears muffled seemingly until his next sentence. “My friend. There is one thing you have done though. And that is lost. You have lost much more than a normal spirit could depart from and still cling on to life.” His words broke through my trance and my eyes, on their own, moved from the dirt to his face. He smiled and said “my brother… what…what did he say to you? What did he tell you that you possessed? What did he tell you your mission was?” and with those words, my heart burst and I began to cry like a savage beast in the wild. My tears streamed down my throat until I was able to vocalize my pain in the form of dry screams. The one motion I was able to do was reach…I reached forward, grasping at a village that was no longer standing…the one motion I could not do when I watched the horizon burn. My arm stayed extended until I could bellow no more and I lost consciousness. When I awoke, weeks had passed, and I slowly tilted up. “slow now good sir,” a voice spoke “not just yet. “You are only seconds conscious, give your self time to adjust.” I looked around. My clothes had been tended too and neatly folded. My scars had been healed and my aches and wounds had been soothed and my heart had been calmed. I smiled, and suddenly punched the vase beside me in a fit of unadulterated rage, grabbing a piece of broken clay and jamming it into my arm and leg where two scars that had used to be were now gone. “NO!!!” I screamed. “WHY WOULD YOU TAKE IT AWAY!!! GIVE THAT WOUND BACK!! “ before I could jam it into my leg again, one of the monks grabbed a pressure point in my wrist and disarmed me leaving my arm hanging and my face covered in tears again. I just sat there whimpering “no….no….give it back…give it back to me…it was mine he gave it to…to me!!” the elders surrounded me wondering what to do until one stepped up and took on the task of easing me of my burdens. Each day, he would visit me, ask me how I was doing, offer me tea, and then start our road to recovery. But recovery is not the road I desired. It was redemption I was looking to walk towards. Each day, more tea, more walking, and more questions until we finally had a chance to sit and talk. He sat me down beside a pile of tomes and simply said “ you have come a long way.” Would you like to continue? Confused, I responded “but..we have done nothing but walk through the same path everyday, drink tea, and…and that’s actually it.” He smiled and said “but young man, you walk. When you were found you would not run, nor stand, let alone crawl. You were motionless and borderline non-exsistient. Now, everyday, you walk. You walk and continue to walk, but without a purpouse. You don’t know why you walk, but you walk, to simply not be as low as you once were, which was motionless. Would you like to continue?” he asked again. “would you like to continue walking through these same gardens, or would you like to deviate? Would you like to walk, but walk towards something? Walk towards a goal? Walk towards a destination? Walk for a purpouse once again? Or, will you just walk?” I stopped and looked around, realizing his words held more emotion and knowledge than I could bear, and I agreed it was time for me to find myself. I spent the next month or two in slight solitude, surrounded by tomes and empty parchment and half used ink bottles, meditating inbetween to strengthen my soul and mind, so that I would not succumb to the memories. Day in and day out I wrote and decoded my thoughts as to ensure no memories of that night would overwhelm me, so step by step I would write down my goals, my dreams, my ambitions, my strengths and weaknesses, what my fears were and what my confidence flowed from. Each day and each night I practiced my martial arts in my mind. I practiced my public speaking, in my mind. I watched gaia turn, I witnessed calamities of past and future, and in time, I found parts of myself, all in the confines of my mind. My spirit grew gradually stronger as did my body and soul, all communing as one. I started to return to the in depth peaceful boy I once was, and the strong willed man I wanted to be was becoming. I had too much to do, and usually kept to myself, but had no problem helping around the temple and helping others. A few weeks later after I returned from a mission, I had the pleasure of meeting a handful of other monks that I would soon endure a pilgrimage with. One in particular, stood out to me. His name, was Magmos. When I looked at him, the room would go completely black. It would just be me and him, then my hands would glow silver and the silver would slowly outline my body, and everything would become lit again, but one of the other monks would glow green, and the other, blue. Something about this puzzled me to no end, but in my time of solitude, I learned better to insinuate the positive. I took this time to reflect. Even though the black flame grew intensely, the green flame burned peacefully, and the blue flame seared the air, I knew my flame would, in time become their lining. I may not burn as passionately, as brightly, or intense as the rest, but one thing I did know, that I was certain of, was that my flame would not let them stray, as I did during those dark times. My flame would become the compass to guide their passion from the sands to the sun. I grabbed a piece of cloth, kissed it, and slowly walked out into the beauty and embrace of the sun, letting it lay its lips gently upon my face with its blessing, I looked up, eyes half closed, smiled, and proceeded down the steps, knowing this time when I walked…I walked for my brothers. For my new home, my new temple, my new ground zero…and I would sway, I would shift, I would revolve, but I would not fall this time…for I have once before fallen…now…it is known…I RISE! De’Lahn Masakaru, Monk of the silver flame Category:Character Profile